The Girl in the Swing

My bride is out of town this weekend and I have the house to myself, well sort of. My son is in from Austin and my beautiful daughter drops in and out often, so I am not even close to being alone. It does feel like it though – without her.

It was about this time, 31 years ago, that I stood in her front yard in old Pelly and watched her glide past me on the swing her Dad had installed on the limb of their giant cottonwood tree…and realized she was the one I wanted to spend my life with. She was and still is my “girl in the swing” and I still see her in that light.

She truly is the love of my life and my Valentine and she rarely leaves my side to pursue her own gratification. This weekend is one of those times and I must confess I miss her.

Every time my lady abandons me to have a retreat with her lady friends I go into a pity party that is plainly self-possessed and self-destructive. Last night for supper I ate copious amounts of cheese dip with Rotel’s habanera salsa and Tostito’s…twice. Pitiful and stupid, it was. It dawned on me this morning that without her, I would go downhill even faster than I already am. She keeps me on track. There is no way she would allow this delectable taste-thrill to pass for a nutritious supper.

A couple of times a year, she forsakes her home duties (and me!) and blasts off with her sister, sister-in-law and favorite lady friends for a refreshing time of laughing and fellowship and I actually encourage her. I cannot fulfill those lady things all women need and can only get from other women and I know it well. Men are a poor substitute for that inexplicable need women possess to “share” with other women. Men aren’t even in the equation.

Women have needs and it’s not what men think or understand. It’s women sharing their lives, desires, drama and secrets with each other, something that I personally ain’t gonna do with another man and don’t care to even think about. Women need other women and I know this, but it doesn’t make it any easier for me to share my bride. She spoiled me and in a roundabout way, it’s her fault I feel this dependency.

I sleep terribly when she’s gone and I did last night. I usually fall asleep about seven or eight pm, sleep like a baby (except I do not suck my thumb or wear a Depends) and arise somewhere between three and four am. I’m a morning person and by the time the day is wearing long, I hit the sack thinking about the morning with anticipation. Last night I dreaded my lonesome, wifeless bed and finally crashed and burned about ten pm, only to plop out, eyes vacant, to an empty house at three-something.

Thursday night, knowing she was going up Huntsville way Friday morning, I had another realistic and mysterious-sounding dream and I even threw it out for comments on the Baytown Sun forum to see what folks thought. Secretly I knew the answer, but here goes.

“I had a dream last night that I was arrested in Huntsville for littering. I wasn't guilty and resisted and the cops beat me until I needed a wheelchair to get around (temporarily).

I was sentenced to 90 days in the Huntsville jail and this is where the dream began.

I was pushing myself around in the wheelchair thinking how unjust the whole situation was. There was nothing weird about the dream and it was very real. Weird… huh?”

I awoke Friday morning feeling grouchy and I admit, selfish about my bride leaving. I’m a mess, a man-mess and deserve a sound thrashing, I know. Don’t pity me. Scold me. Kick me. I’m a bad boy, eating all that cheese-dip and stuff. I need to grow up and realize my lady deserves her downtime. Now - onto the meaning of the dream.

Let me see if I interpreted this dream correctly and you be the judge. My wife’s friends are the police and by taking my bride from me, I am not only blameless, but victimized and imprisoned at home and crippled(!) for what feels like three months…right? Right!

Guess I’ll go dig up a little breakfast. A double-decker Moon Pie and sausage links dipped in cheese sauce…again.